Could You Fix 'Im?
by emilylikeselephants
Summary: A young Sam and Dean are home alone while their father is on a hunt, and disaster quite unlike what they're used to strikes.


It was getting dark by the time a twelve-year-old Dean Winchester returned to the Ocean Pines motel, Pennsylvania. Often he got restless, when his father was out doing a job, and so left his younger brother Sam alone in the room- just for a few hours- while he went to the arcade, or the gas station, or even just to gaze at the _Indiana Jones _posters outside the local movie theatre. Indiana Jones, he had decided from a young age, was definitely, irrevocably, an awesome role model. He reminded him of his dad, both with their work of saving people and hunting things in badass leather jackets. His father getting a hat like Indy was a thought that often occurred to Dean at these times, as he watched his heroes from the screen and the road flip villains away like specks of dust, the former always getting the pretty girl to boot.

Pulling his keys from the pocket of his coat, the boy stuck them in the lock and kicked the bottom of the door to release it from its stiff hinges. The smell of pie- always a special treat on Thursdays- still lingered in the air, which made him sigh contentedly. The sight, however- contrast to his somewhat warm mood- which met his eyes as he retrieved his keys and glanced up, was practically heart breaking. He was just glad their dad wasn't home. Little Sammy Winchester- at just about eight years- was sat on the floor in the center of the room, staring forlornly down at a very dead teddy bear. He glanced up at his older brother- his role model- and shook his hair ineffectively from his face. "Hi, Dean." He greeted, weakly.

The bear himself was the same age as the boy who stood at the door. He had been Dean's toy, originally, but upon the child's declaration that there were more important things than 'damn plushies' to concern himself with, his younger brother had adopted the bear, and taken him in. It had already been missing an eye- courtesy of baby Dean- and the bow around its neck was tattered- courtesy of years wear spent on the road- but now it looked even more of a wreck than usual. The stitches, which held its stomach feebly in place, seemed to have snapped right in the middle, and small tufts of stuffing were poking out cruelly to the boy above it as if taunting him. The same thing had happened to the leg, and in case losing one major outer organ wasn't enough, the teddy seemed to have misplaced his ear.

"What's happened here?" Dean asked as he stepped inside, raising his eyebrows. "It's like a Schwarz bomb site." Sam just sniffed again and looked back to the bear.

"He got stuck down the back of the bed." He muttered in reply. "I couldn't move it; had to pull him out." Dean's eyebrows remained raised as he looked at his brother.

"So it's more like a Schwarz massacre site?" He rephrased, an attempt at humour, though his brother dutifully ignored him, instead asking,

"You don't think you could fix 'im, could you, Dean?" Sam's eyes were wide as he glanced up, and he managed to achieve a look much like a lost puppy. "Can we push all this back in?" He asked hopefully, glancing down and picking the bear up carefully, offering him to Dean, who sighed. The older boy stepped inside and shut the door behind him, glancing to the proffered bear.

"Sammy, don't get me wrong, I'm an every day Teddy Bear doctor," he said, as he moved to perch on his bed, "but I dunno, we need needles, thread-"  
"I have some." Sam said, immediately, causing Dean to frown in confusion.

"Why the _hell_," he asked, watching the boy run to his case and rifle through it, "do you have a needle and thread?"

"Just in case," Sam replied, as he paused his foraging to glance to Dean, "you know how dad needs them sometimes…"

"Right... well that doesn't matter now." Came Dean's reply. "Now hurry up, we've got an emergency here." Sam nodded quickly, barely noticing his brother's obvious jab at changing the subject, and returned to his search. About five seconds later he let out a triumphant huff and brought out a shiny silver needle with some black thread. Dean sighed, watching as Sam hurried over. The younger boy placed the bear in his brother's lap and handed him the thread.  
"Alright, buddy," Dean sighed again, rolling back his shoulders as he addressed the bear, before he went to get started, "let's patch you up."

Sam nodded hopefully in agreement and sat on the bed next his brother, watching in pinched anticipation as to the results of the operation.

The fact that Dean had never so much as threaded a needle in his life barely mattered.

It was times like that which they both missed the most, sometimes.


End file.
